PART FOUR: The Stockade
Chapter 18: Narrative Continued by the Doctor: End of the First Day's Fighting
(continued)
This seemed mightily to relieve him. He re-entered the
log-house and set about counting up the stores as if
nothing else existed. But he had an eye on Tom's passage
for all that, and as soon as all was over, came forward
with another flag and reverently spread it on the body.
"Don't you take on, sir," he said, shaking the squire's
hand. "All's well with him; no fear for a hand that's
been shot down in his duty to captain and owner. It
mayn't be good divinity, but it's a fact."
Then he pulled me aside.
"Dr. Livesey," he said, "in how many weeks do you and
squire expect the consort?"
I told him it was a question not of weeks but of
months, that if we were not back by the end of August
Blandly was to send to find us, but neither sooner nor
later. "You can calculate for yourself," I said.
"Why, yes," returned the captain, scratching his head;
"and making a large allowance, sir, for all the gifts
of Providence, I should say we were pretty close hauled."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"It's a pity, sir, we lost that second load. That's
what I mean," replied the captain. "As for powder and
shot, we'll do. But the rations are short, very short--
so short, Dr. Livesey, that we're perhaps as well
without that extra mouth."
And he pointed to the dead body under the flag.
Just then, with a roar and a whistle, a round-shot
passed high above the roof of the log-house and plumped
far beyond us in the wood.
"Oho!" said the captain. "Blaze away! You've little
enough powder already, my lads."
At the second trial, the aim was better, and the ball
descended inside the stockade, scattering a cloud of
sand but doing no further damage.
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